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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24812110">Domino</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/yutaforyou/pseuds/yutaforyou'>yutaforyou</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCT (Band), WAYV, WeishenV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Mob, Blood and Injury, Crimes &amp; Criminals, Gun Violence, M/M, Organized Crime, Violence, mafia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:07:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,976</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24812110</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/yutaforyou/pseuds/yutaforyou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The only thing more powerful than the most powerful man is the thing he loves the most because he will do anything to keep it safe.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Liu Yang Yang/Qian Kun</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>113</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Introduction</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This first chapter occurs a year after the rest of the story.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Any advice before I go in?” The man asked. His suit, his smile, and even his hair screamed ‘politician’. He was clearly experienced in people-pleasing but this was different. One wrong move could end with him at the bottom of a river. He had a cool facade but the men escorting him knew his kind well. They could smell the nerves when he stepped into the building. His eyes flickered to each of the men surrounding him, finally landing on the tallest who looked like he would give him an answer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t get comfortable. Remember you’re asking for a favor so be humble.” He said as he moved towards the large double doors. He placed his hands on the handles but before he pushed them open he turned his head back toward the politician and said, “And no matter what the kid does, don’t lay a finger on him.” </span>
  <span>The kid?</span>
  <span> He didn’t get to ask who he meant by the kid before the tall man pushed open the doors revealing the office. It was large with high ceilings and everything in it felt very traditional. It was classy but not over the top. He didn’t know what to expect from the boss of the most powerful mob in the city, possibly even the country, but what he saw felt like old money. It looked powerful and timeless and so did the man sitting in the armchair in the center of the room. Qian Kun was relaxed in his pristine suit and tie, his hair was gelled back which framed his strong features nicely. The slight clink of a glass being placed on a table brought his attention to another figure in the room. </span>
  <span>This must be the kid. </span>
  <span>He thought to himself. He was young, or perhaps he just looked young. He found the kid odd because, in a room filled with tall, strong, and powerful men, he seemed to exude the most confidence out of them all. Perhaps he was confusing confidence with comfort, the kid’s attire was strikingly different from the rest of the room’s. His shirt was askew and unbuttoned quite low, his pants were tight but hung low on his hips, and his hair looked like it had been previously styled but something (or someone) had made a mess of it. He looked effortless and so cavalier it was unsettling. And his face, well that was something else entirely, he had soft features but his eyes were sharp and cat-like. It would be fair to say he’s gorgeous, in an ethereal sort of way. But something about the slight smile on his lips told people that he was more than meets the eye. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man realized he’d been staring at the kid for quite a while when he picked up a glass of whiskey from the bar cart he was next to and strolled over to Qian. He handed him the glass and he only gave him a slight glance but apparently that was enough to make the kid’s smile widen. He perched himself on the armrest of the boss’s chair and looked at the politician expectantly. </span>
  <span>Oh right</span>
  <span>. He thought as he bowed quickly and took a seat in one of the chairs opposite Qian and the kid. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I suppose you know I’ve come to ask for a favor-” He was cut off by the slight raise of Qian’s hand. He was unsure of what was next to come.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Would you like a drink? You look like you could use one.” He said. His voice was calm, but by his tone, the politician assumed he didn’t have a choice but to accept.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um. Yes, please. Whiskey, neat.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yangyang, why don’t you fetch it for him.” The boss didn’t look up at the kid to spot the mischievous glint in his eyes but it was safe to assume he knew it was there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, sir.” The way his voice drawled sent shivers up the politician’s spine. He wondered how affected everyone else was by this boy. He glanced around at the four men that had entered with him, they all had stone-cold expressions. Perhaps they were used to Yangyang by now. The kid made his way back to the bar cart and poured the man a drink. His eyes never left the kid until he turned back around with the glass in one hand and he glanced over at the boss nervously. He realized that Qian might have never taken his eyes off of him while he was watching Yangyang. The kid handed him the glass which he carefully took, trying not to make eye contact with him to avoid whatever he had just been warned about. He wasn’t even sure what the tall man meant but he had a feeling that the more contact he had with Yangyang, the less this meeting would turn out in his favor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m aware of your situation. What I am curious about is what you think I can do for you?” The boss took a sip from the glass in his hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have control over the press and-” He was cut off again by the slight raise of his hand. Such a simple gesture from such a powerful man seemed to be enough to silence anyone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You want your reputation saved, simple as that. You politicians are all the same.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I- I’m sorry?” The man stuttered. He had been slightly distracted by Yangyang circling around his chair. The boy stopped, hovering slightly over him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You came here to ask for a favor, right?” Yangyang asked, leaning in closer towards the man. His breath caught in his throat and his eyes flickered between Qian and the kid, unsure of what to do. Whatever nerve he had before skyrocketed when Yangyang sat down on his lap, his slim legs strewn across the man.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” He said, it was quiet and shaky but the whole room heard him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you got into all this trouble because you like pretty things, what a shame.” Yangyang placed one hand on the man’s shoulder and moved it slowly down over his bicep. He had absolutely no idea what to do next. “Tell me,” Yangyang leaned in and whispered in his ear, “do you think I’m pretty?” The room watched as the man simply stopped breathing. Panic washed over his face as he came to understand his options. Either he said yes and risked offending the boss or he said no and offended the kid. His mind struggled to weigh the options and Yangyang’s hands moving all over him clouded his thoughts entirely. He didn’t even notice when he placed his hand on the kid’s thigh and when he did the dread set in. He’d done exactly what he’d been warned not to. He removed his hand quickly, hoping to God that no one had noticed but he knew from the look in Qian’s eye that he had. “Well?” Yangyang said, expecting an answer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” The politician said as quietly as possible but still clear enough for Yangyang to hear him. The kid looked down at him with piercing eyes and the man felt completely enraptured by his gaze. This gorgeous boy was just sitting in his lap and no one was doing anything to stop him. </span>
  <span>Maybe</span>
  <span>, he thought, </span>
  <span>it’s okay to play along. He clearly wants it.</span>
  <span> He put his hand back on Yangyang’s thigh and the kid smirked, leaning his body against the man and shifting in his lap. He leaned in close enough for the man to feel his breath on his face and as soon as the man even thought of closing the gap between them he vanished from his lap. The kid strode back across the room to where Qian had been watching them and placed himself back on his armrest. It was then that the man truly understood how badly he had fucked up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You see, having politicians like you under my control has proven to be useful.” Qian handed his almost empty glass to Yangyang who finished it off with a mischievous grin. “Trash like you fucks up over and over again and the more you fuck up and I clean up your mess, the more control I have over you. You try to save your reputation but you never change so you end up puppets because you know what will happen the second you betray me.” Qian nodded to the men standing behind him and before he knew it he was being dragged off the chair and onto his knees on the floor. “But, unfortunately for you, I don’t cover-up for rapists.” Qian held a hand out and Yangyang placed a revolver in his hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait, please- please I have a family! Please, I have a son-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And if he grows up to be like you, I’ll do the same thing to him.” He removed the safety on the gun and held it up to the man’s forehead. He ignored the man’s pleas as he pulled the trigger and the room entered a deafening silence. The body slumped to the floor and two of Qian’s men picked him up by the arms and dragged him out of the room. The two other guards followed them out, knowing that the pair would want to be left alone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kun returned to his armchair, examining the gun in his hand. It was a gift from Yangyang and one of his favorite firearms in his collection. Something about it just felt right in his hands. Yangyang had returned to the bar cart to pour himself a drink. He took a sip and turned back to Kun. “You let him touch you,” Kun stated simply, not looking up at the boy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Normally they’re too scared, but I guess this one was really just that stupid.” He expected Kun to at least chuckle but he got no response from the man. “You didn’t like it did you?” Yangyang walked back over to Kun. He set his glass down on the coffee table and crawled onto Kun’s lap. His legs on either side of the man and his chest pressed against him. “You didn’t like it when that trash touched me. Well, I did.” He put his hands on Kun’s chest but the man still didn’t move. “I liked watching that glimmer in his eye disappear when I got up off of him. I liked watching him realize how bad he fucked up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re deranged, Liu Yangyang.” Kun finally put his hands on Yangyang’s waist, pulling him even closer against his body.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Says you. You just killed a man.” Kun chuckled at that. He removed one hand from the boy’s waist and brought it up to his neck. He squeezed slightly and watched the glint of excitement flash across Yangyang’s face. His grip moved to his chin and he brought the boy’s face towards his own.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Remember who you belong to.” Yangyang gasped as the grip on his waist and chin tightened.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You. I belong to you, sir.” He shifted in Kun’s lap and his eyes begged for Kun to do something. Kun’s smile sent shivers down his spine.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. One Year Earlier</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Do you think I’m sexy?” Yangyang asks, looking up at Hendery from the bar stool he is desperately trying to balance himself on. He’d gone two shots over his limit and his center of gravity is now nowhere to be found. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yangyang, I’d rather go dance with that old guy that was hitting on you than answer that question.” Yangyang scoffs, offended. Although he has to admit, that old guy was a bit gross and about twenty years above the average age of the club. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re so rude.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you’re a slutty drunk, we all have our faults.” Couldn’t argue with that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everyone thinks I’m cute, why doesn’t anyone think I’m sexy.” Yangyang huffs, resting his head on his hands which were propped up on the bar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh woe is me, I’m Liu Yangyang and everyone thinks I’m fucking adorable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up.” It’s honestly what he deserves for asking for validation from Hendery. “I want to go home…” Yangyang yawns dramatically, glancing up at Hendery to look for a hint of sympathy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then go home! I’m still trying to get laid tonight.” Hendery is scanning the club for somebody who fits the bill. Yangyang pouts and stands up from the barstool, immediately stumbling and crashing into Hendery’s body. “Christs sake, Yangyang. Take an Uber or something.” Yangyang nods in agreement. He shuffles through bodies on the dancefloor and gets a bit lost for a moment. He’s not quite tall enough to see past the crowd to the neon exit sign but he sees a hint of light and makes his way towards it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He exits the bar and is immediately hit in the face with the brisk fall air which does a good job of sobering him up. Well, he’s a bit more sober but he still sways standing still and walks in a zigzag pattern. He stumbles towards the curb and pulls out his phone but it slips from his fingers and lands hard on the pavement. The resounding crack sound it makes causes Yangyang to almost cry. He’d never admit that his eyes welled up more than they probably should have. Normally he wouldn’t care, it’s just a phone, he’d get it fixed quickly. But the amount of alcohol in his system has made him unreasonably emotional over his loss. He leans down and picks the phone up off the pavement and inspects the screen. There’s glitches everywhere, the screen is completely shattered and it doesn’t respond to Yangyang’s touch no matter how aggressive he is. Well, that means no Uber tonight. He slides the phone in his pocket and considers going back inside to get Hendery to call him one. Unfortunately the line outside the club is even longer than when they got there and he isn’t willing to spend an hour waiting to forcibly break up whatever hook up Hendery is currently involved in so that he can get a ride. Campus was nearby, it only took them fifteen minutes in the Uber to get to the club, how long could it possibly take to walk? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yangyang made his way halfway down the block before realising he was going in the wrong direction and turning around. His sense of direction is a little skewed but he’s still confident he can make it back to the dorms. It might take a while, but he can definitely do it. He makes a left turn and is faced with a run-down strip club with several drunk men leaning against its walls. Wrong turn. He turns back around and continues down the main road, every once in a while a car passes him and reminds him that he’s not in a ghost town. Yangyang finds himself somewhat distracted by looking at his feet and trying desperately to walk in a straight line. When he looks up, everything around him is completely unrecognisable. The street is lined with small businesses that have closed up for the night. It’s a bit grungy, trash overflows from a trash can on the street corner and Yangyang steps around it. For the life of him Yangyang can’t figure out where he is. To make matters worse, he isn’t entirely sure where he came from or when he got lost. He decides to backtrack, at least to an area that he had seen a few cars in. Maybe he would get lucky and be able to flag down a passing cab. As he walks down the empty street his left shoelace manages to come undone, he doesn’t notice until he trips right over it and lands on his hands and knees. He gasps in pain and raises his hands from the ground to inspect the damage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he kneels on the floor, dusting off his hands and pulling pieces of gravel from his skin, he hears a loud thump come from the alley beside him. He looks up as a figure emerges from the dark alley, illuminated by the street lights. It’s a man, much taller than Yangyang and broader too, his figure loomed over Yangyang who is still kneeling on the dusty ground. The lower half of the man’s face is covered by a black mask but his eyes are boring holes into Yangyang. He’s clearly not pleased that Yangyang has seen him. Yangyang’s eyes travel down the man’s figure to his hand where a dark substance drips from his gloved finger tips, he hopes that isn’t what he thinks it is. He feels sick to his stomach and his fight or flight instinct kicks it. It seems that his body always prefers flight over fight, he pushes himself up off the pavement and starts running in the direction he’s facing. Unfortunately for him, he doesn’t recognise anything in this direction at all and presumably that means he’s getting further and further away from campus and his lovely bed in his dorm-room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yangyang hears quick and heavy footsteps behind him and his stomach drops, the man is chasing him. He looks around frantically for a way out and spots a side street to his left, hopefully he’ll be able to lose him. The second he turns into the street he knows he fucked up. It’s a dead end. The brick wall he’s facing seems to laugh at him in the dim street lighting, calling him a fool. He feels a hand on his shoulder and before he can react, he’s slammed into the cold, hard wall. His head aches from making contact with brick but he doesn’t have enough time to process the pain before the stranger starts talking. “What did you see?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing!” Yangyang yells, the man goes to cover his mouth and Yangyang corrects himself. “Nothing. Nothing, at all.” He whisper yells, the panic makes his voice crack but he’s too scared to be embarrassed right now.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know that’s not true.” The man’s grip on his shoulders tightens to the point of it being painful. “What did you see?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really! Nothing!” Yangyang insists, he feels his heart rising in his throat and he’s beginning to worry that he’ll pass out from panic alone. The man looks Yangyang up and down, his dark eyes examining the much smaller boy. Yangyang hasn’t even noticed that the blood on the gloves of the man is staining his jacket with a deep crimson handprint. “I swear on my life, I didn’t see a thing!” The man is clearly unconvinced. He grabs Yangyang by the arm and drags him down the street towards a large black car with tinted windows. Yangyang begins to scream in protest and hopes someone in one of these buildings is awake and takes notice. Yangyang’s body is shoved against the car and his mouth is covered by the man’s gloved (and thankfully clean) hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you make another sound, there’s going to be more blood on me tonight.” That effectively shuts Yangyang up. He’s no match for the man physically so his retaliations against being thrown into the vehicle are completely unsuccessful. The man slams the car door and it hits Yangyang’s head hard. He feels dizzy and disoriented but he still registers the sound of the door locking. The man slides into the driver seat and shuffles around in the front until he holds up something. It’s dark and Yangyang had never seen a handgun in real life but the black silhouette of the object was fairly obviously one. “You try anything and I’ll shoot you in the shoulder. It’ll hurt like a bitch but you’ll live long enough for us to make you talk.” Us? Possibilities race through Yangyang’s head which is still throbbing from the pain. He feels something wet trickle down the side of his face and he reaches to touch it. The second his fingers touch the area, he pulls his back and hisses from the sharp pain. Blood. His fingers were coated in blood. That car door really did a number on him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s too drunk and dizzy to pay attention to where the car is headed, but he doesn’t recognize any of their surroundings. He doesn’t know how long they’ve been driving but he feels himself slipping in and out of consciousness. Maybe he has a concussion? Or maybe he’s just drunk? He doesn’t bother himself by thinking about it too much because he’s about seventy-two percent sure he’s going to die tonight, so what does it matter? The car screeches to a halt in front of what looks like an abandoned warehouse. Yangyang tries to look around at the area they’re in, it’s all warehouses. Oh god, he’s going to die tonight isn’t he? He’s going to get shot in a warehouse. At least he isn’t sober, that would be depressing. The man pulls open the door and drags Yangyang out of the car and toward a door on the side of the building. Yangyang hears him type a code into the pad by the door and a click that signifies it’s been unlocked. The man shoves him into the building and slams the door behind them. Once he gets his bearings he looks up and is surprised to see that the inside of what looked like a desolate building was actually very nice. Blood drips down the side of his face from the gash on his head and falls on the hardwood flood. The man drags Yangyang behind him down a series of hallways. Yangyang struggles to trail behind him and he trips over himself trying to stay upright as he’s being dragged. Finally they reach a room and he is yet again shoved inside. “What a gentleman you are.” Yangyang spits at the man, at this point his sense of self-preservation is nowhere to be found. He thinks he left it on the street corner when he was pushed into the car. The man removes his mask and hat, Yangyang’s breath hitches. He may be a complete asshole but Yangyang has to admit that the guy is ridiculously handsome. His eyes, which were previously hidden by the cap, are sharp and elegant. As is the rest of his face. Yangyang has to remind himself it’s probably not the best idea to stare down the man currently threatening him with a gun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luckily, his staring is interrupted by the subtle sound of shuffling papers and Yangyang is reminded that he’s been thrown into a room that looks very much like a professional office. He looks toward the sound and meets the eyes of a man sitting at a desk in what looks like a very expensive chair. It looks like the chair Yangyang’s dad has in his home office and he knew that cost a pretty penny. He takes a moment to take in the appearance of the man in the chair. If the man in the mask made Yangyang’s breath hitch then this man made him choke on air. His eyes bore into Yangyang’s, his features are soft but intense. Yangyang’s fingers itch to touch the man’s sharp jawline and perfectly shaped lips. God put a little too much time into this man. His gaze went from Yangyang to the man who had kidnapped him. “Explain.” It was a simple command but the authoritative tone sent shivers through Yangyang’s body. It was one word, how could it have that much of an effect on him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything went according to plan until I caught this kid-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kid?” Yangyang interjects but is ultimately ignored.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-watching. I don’t know how much he saw, he won’t talk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes I did talk! I said I saw nothing!” Yangyang yelled back. He should really start searching for that self-preservation he left behind, it might come in handy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Say another word and I’ll start breaking bones.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you wanted me to talk.” God, this attitude of his is going to get Yangyang killed. The man in the chair chuckles and Yangyang’s full attention is back on him. It’s like he can’t stop his eyes from staring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s been a while since I’ve seen anyone talk back to you, Winwin. It’s refreshing.” The comment is met with a freezing cold silence from the masked man who Yangyang assumes is named Winwin. Normally, he’d poke fun at a name like that but he thinks he might be reaching this clearly dangerous man’s limit. “You,” the man focuses his attention back on Yangyang, “take your shirt off.” That throws Yangyang in a loop. What the fuck?</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Excuse me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take your shirt off.” He says again slower, Yangyang would be lying if he said that it didn’t absolutely turn him on. He slowly unbuttons the buttons of his dress shirt but by the time he makes it past the third, Winwin groans impatiently and grabs him. In one fluid motion he rips the rest of the shirt all the way down, buttons pop off and fly all over the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Turn around.” Winwin commands and Yangyang doesn’t get a chance to protest before he’s forcibly turned around. It’s silent for a moment and he can’t for the life of him figure out what it is they are looking for. “No tattoo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What tattoo?” Yangyang huffs, reaching down to the ground to pick up the remnants of his shirt and pulling it on to maintain at least some coverage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If he’s not with-” Winwin pauses and glances down at Yangyang, thinking through his word choice, “them, then maybe he’s a pig.” The man in the chair leans back and looks Yangyang up and down. He gulps at the feeling of the man’s eyes on his body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. He’s too young.” The man’s voice seems to have a strange effect on Yangyang where every time he speaks, Yangyang loses a little bit of sanity. “And too skinny.” He frowns at that. He works out, maybe only once a month, but still. “He’s probably just some kid who ended up at the wrong place at the wrong time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How can we be sure?” Winwin asks, he’s got an iron grip on Yangyang’s upper arm and he can feel a bruise forming.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Winwin, give us a minute.” Winwin reluctantly lets go of Yangyang’s arm. He gives him one last glare before exiting the room through the door they entered through. “Sit.” Yangyang rushes to sit in one of the chairs in front of the man’s desk. “What’s your name?” Yangyang hesitates, maybe he shouldn’t give his name to dangerous strangers. But then what else could he possibly say?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hendery.” The pitch of his voice hikes. What the fuck, why on earth did he say Hendery? That’s a terrible fucking idea. He doesn’t have enough time to evaluate how shitty of a friend he is because the man catches onto his lie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Try again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... Yangyang.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pleasure to meet you, Yangyang. Sorry about my friend, his bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired.” I’ll say, Yangyang thinks but doesn’t feel confident enough with this man to talk back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I swear I didn’t see anything.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“We both know that’s not true.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All I saw was the blood on him! That doesn’t mean anything! That could be from anything! He could have had a nosebleed for all I know!” Yangyang is grasping at straws at this point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you’re smarter than that.” The man’s voice comes out low and stern, Yangyang gulps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t tell.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unfortunately, we’re not in the business of trusting.” The man pulls open a drawer from the desk and slowly pulls out a small silver handgun. Yangyang’s stomach drops and he feels sick, all he can do now is beg.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, I swear I’ll never tell, I don’t even know what happened, please, on my life I’ll never say a word-” The man puts the gun down on the desk in front of him and pulls out a pack of Marlboros from the drawer along with a lighter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lucky for you, I don’t go around killing random kids. It’s a bit messy for my taste.” He lifts up a cigarette and holds it gently between his lips. Yangyang stares at his lips while he lights it and he can feel himself almost drool. What the hell is wrong with him, he thought this man would kill him ten seconds ago and now he’s being distracted by his perfect lips. “But, I can’t have you going to the cops so I’ll be keeping you around for a bit until we clean this mess up.” Yangyang pales at that. Keep him around? Like a prisoner?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t do that!” The man stares him down and lets out a cloud of cigarette smoke through his lips. “I- I have a family, I have friends. Fuck, I even have class! They’ll notice if I go missing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you a college student, Yangyang?” He takes another drag from the cigarette. It’s a disgusting habit but damn if this man doesn’t make it look hot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No one will think twice about some kid missing a few days of class.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“People will be looking for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll deal with that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t just keep me here against my will! That’s kidnapping!”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Do I seem like a man who cares about the law?” That’s honestly fair. “Look it’s either we keep an eye on you for a few days or I’m gonna have to hand you back over to Winwin and at this point I believe you understand exactly what he’s capable of.” Yangyang couldn’t protest, images of Winwin’s bloody hands resurfaced in his mind. He has to get out and right now between this man’s offer and Winwin, his choice was clear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just a few days?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just a few days. Until things clear up.” The man leans back in his chair. “Winwin?” He calls out and the door opens again. Winwin steps back into the room and his cold eyes fall on Yangyang. “You have his phone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s busted, won’t do us much good.” Winwin tosses Yangyang’s beaten up phone on the desk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get Ten to deal with it, we’ll need it to make sure no one comes looking for this kid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop calling me ‘kid’, I’m twenty-one.” Yangyang can’t seem to make himself shut up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your face scrunches up when you get mad. It’s cute, kid.” That knocked the wind out of Yangyang, he blushes and stutters trying to come up with a comeback. “Lock him up in one of the rooms, we don’t want him exploring.” And with that command, Winwin grabs Yangyang roughly by the shoulder and pulls him out of the office. He shakes the man’s hands off of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not going anywhere, stop grabbing me like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Forgive me for not trusting you.” Winwin spoke down to him, making Yangyang feel unbearably small next to the man. Winwin pulls him down the hallway and turns a corner. They reach a door and Winwin pulls out a key and unlocks it. He pushes Yangyang inside and shuts the door behind him, all he can hear is the click of the lock. He exhales deeply and tugs at his hair, how did he get into this mess? All he’d seen was some blood, was it really that serious? And who were all these people? A gang? The fucking Mafia? He hopes to God that this “just a few days” thing isn’t a ruse and he’ll just end up dead in a ditch anyway. He has to find a way out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yangyang looks up and takes in the room around him. There aren’t any windows, the only way in and out is through the locked door. There’s a queen-size bed against the wall, the room is lined by bookshelves. Yangyang paces around the room slowly, running his fingertips across the books. They’re old but not dusty, the place is well-kept. He plops down on the bed, the duvet is soft to the touch. Even though there’s no way to see the outside light, Yangyang thinks it must be near four or five in the morning. He’s exhausted, mentally and physically, but he knows he should stay awake. It’d be dangerous to leave himself vulnerable. He wills his body to stay awake but eventually he loses the battle. Long after he’s passed out, the sound of the door unlocking fills the room.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Prisoner</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Yangyang doesn’t know how long he’s been asleep but when he wakes up he notices a cup of water on the nightstand that definitely wasn’t there when he fell asleep. His heart beats a tiny bit faster, he searches the room for any other differences but finds nothing. His skin crawls from the idea of someone being in the room with him while he slept. The door unlocks and Winwin walks in. “Hungry?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not a man of many words, are you?” Winwin rolls his eyes and turns to leave, “Wait!” Yangyang yells after him and he turns back, “I’m hungry. Sorry.” Yangyang figures he should probably at least try to be pleasant, who knows what this guy will do to him. Winwin walks back out into the hall and locks the door behind him. Well, there goes Yangyang’s chance for a meal. He drinks the water beside him but his stomach still growls. A few minutes pass and to Yangyang’s surprise the door unlocks again and this time the man he’d met the night before steps in. He’s in a clean white button up shirt and slacks, he looks professional for a criminal. Yangyang sees he’s holding a brown paper and the scent of food fills the small room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have a habit of pissing off Winwin, I suggest you break it sooner rather than later.” He strides across the room and places the bag on the nightstand by the boy. From this angle his body is hovering slightly over Yangyang’s, the boy doesn’t notice he’s holding his breath till the man leans away and he exhales. “Someone will come get the trash when you’re done.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How will you know? I’m locked in here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a smart boy, sort of. Figure it out.” It takes him a second but Yangyang puts it together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There are cameras in here, aren’t there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bingo.” He has to laugh at that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bingo? You are old.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Watch it, kid.” He turns to walk towards the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait!” The man turns and his gaze makes Yangyang feel tiny and vulnerable, “I don’t know your name.” A silence follows, for a second Yangyang doesn’t think he’ll get an answer, he looks down at his hands sheepishly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kun.” Yangyang’s eyes dart back up, he almost misses the slight smile playing at the man’s lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kun…” He says to himself, almost too gently for Kun to hear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pleasure to meet you, Liu Yangyang.” He leaves the room and Yangyang’s mind is so focused on the image of his smile he almost misses the fact that Kun knew his last name. The second he realises, his heart and mind start to race. If they knew his name, who knows what else they know about him. If they find out about his family… no, he can’t think about that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes shift over to the bag on the nightstand, his stomach growls again. He reaches in and pulls out two containers of chinese take-out and thanks the lord because it smells amazing. Maybe he’s just starving or maybe these gangsters really know how to eat. Either way, he digs in and his growling stomach is finally satisfied. Once he’s done he throws the empty take-out containers in the bag. He’s tempted to let out a burp but reminds himself that he’s being watched and that would be somewhat embarrassing. He looks up at the ceiling, scanning for cameras but it’s completely clean. His eyes land on the bookcase and he has a hunch that the camera is hidden in the rows of old books. He gets up and begins to scan the shelves top to bottom. By the third row, something caught his eye. Not a camera but a very old copy of The Death of Ivan Ilych, his fingers graze it and he’s reminded of the fact that he’ll probably be there for a while and a bit of reading would at least serve for entertainment. He pulls the book from the shelf and lays back on the bed, opening it to the first page. He’d read it before but it had always been one of his favorite books when he’s in the mood to question the meaning of his life and whether or not anyone would care if he died. Rather cheery book. About half way through the first chapter the door opens again and he looks up. His heart falls a bit when he sees it’s Winwin and that confuses him. Who did he wish it was? The cops? Not Kun… But he didn’t have time to ponder over it as he flinches when Winwin strides across the room towards him and picks up the bag full of empty containers. The man is surprised by how light it is and peeks inside. “Jesus, you can eat.” Yangyang just shrugs, not seeing a point in defending his appetite. Winwin gives him another look before turning to exit the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait!” Yangyang calls, the man stops in his tracks. “I, um, I have a question.” Winwin looks at him expectedly. “What are you guys?” Winwin just laughs. “I mean like… what is this place, what are you guys doing here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sure ask a lot of questions for someone who doesn’t want to get killed.” That shut Yangyang up. He looks down at his lap, holding the book sheepishly. Winwin sighs, “Let’s just say we’re not the kind of people you’d want to be in debt to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So like the mafia?” Yangyang asks quietly, almost hoping Winwin wouldn’t hear him. Winwin just gives him a smirk and continues back to the door, exiting the room. Yangyang sat for a minute, wondering how big of a mess he was in. He concluded that it was a huge, astronomical mess and he’s completely and utterly fucked. With that, he goes back to reading and doesn’t notice when he begins to doze off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kun watches the live feed from the camera in Yangyang’s room on his desktop. A knock at the door startles him and he closes the window. “Come in,” he calls out and Ten walks in the office, “what is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? I need a reason to hang out with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, but you usually have an agenda.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I resent that.” Ten huffs and makes himself comfortable on an armchair by the desk. “So, who’s the kid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There it is.” Kun mutters under his breath and Ten just raises an eyebrow. “No one, just some unfortunate witness.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So kill him.” Kun scoffs at that. “What? Well, he is cute, I guess.” Kun doesn’t dignify that with a retort. “Come on, you saw those big eyes and soft lips.” Kun’s mind wanders back to Yangyang, he does have soft yet distinctive features, a bit like a cat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re just holding onto him until everything gets cleaned up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why didn’t you kill him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just told you-”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“You said ‘I don’t go around killing random kids’,” Kun’s excuse gets interrupted by Ten, “I know, Winwin was there. And we both know that’s not true, so why didn’t you kill him?” Fuck. He was trapped, caught in a lie. A moment of silence passes as Kun forms another plausible reason.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s Liu Yangyang.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Yes, genius, I know. I went through his phone, remember?” Ten’s jab receives a withering glare from Kun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Liu as in Liu Enterprises. I’m sure Mr. Liu will pay a hefty sum for his son back safely.” Ten hums and furrows a brow in thought, though Kun’s unsure of whether or not Ten’s actually had a thought in his life. Or if he’s just gone around doing everything on impulse and chaos.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“True, true…” Kun relaxes a little, hoping that would be the end of the conversation, “but you didn’t know that when you decided not to kill him.” Fuck… again. “Come on, Kun. You’re a good liar but I know you too well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine! Fucking fine already! He’s cute!” Kun’s cool exterior broke as he yelled at Ten across the office. His smug face pisses off Kun even more. “What? I don’t have to kill everyone that walks in my door, but for you I might make an exception.” Ten just laughs at the man’s outburst, taking the threat very lightly. Kun grabs a cigarette from his desk drawer and lights it with his beat up zippo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, well, well. Someone finally managed to get under the infamous Kun’s skin. Isn’t this interesting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up.” Kun mutters between puffs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gotta admit, boss, you got good taste. He’s on the younger side but-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s only four years younger than me.” Kun spat back at his, unfortunately, best friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Done your research, have you?” Ten had a unique way of catching Kun off guard and clawing away at his normally stone cold exterior. “Well,” Ten gets up off the armchair and makes his way to the door, “do us all a favor and figure your shit out before we keep this kid imprisoned for God knows how long.” And with that he exits the office and leaves Kun in an embarrassing silence. Kun curses under his breath and puts out his cigarette in the ashtray on his desk. A moment of thought passes and Kun reluctantly pulls up the camera feed on his desktop only to see that Yangyang had fallen asleep on top of the covers with a book lying open on his chest. And though he’d never admit it, Kun felt something akin to butterflies or some teenage bullshit in his chest. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry it took so long to update! I'll be updating a lot more regularly and I have a few more chapters lined up and will hopefully post them next week. Tysm for y'all's comments and support!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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